


Pantheon

by rosymamacita



Series: Mount Vie [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff, Bellarke, F/M, Fluff, Post-Mount Weather, Romance, Sexy Times, co leaders, honeymoon adventures, pink cotton candy fluff, some questions pop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-25 00:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4939342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosymamacita/pseuds/rosymamacita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set 5 months after the events of Cold Weather, Clarke and Bellamy are the leaders in the renamed mountain. Mount Vie is a bustling village, with Grounders, Arkers and Delinquents all working together. </p><p>When news of an illness in an important village comes to Mount Vie, Clarke and Bellamy head off to heal the sick and secure a treaty. </p><p>It's just a perk that this trip will be the first time that Clarke and Bellamy have really been alone, I mean, alone alone, since coming to the Mountain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Into the woods

Clarke and Bellamy walked through Camp Vie, on a mission.

What had once been a large meadow outside of the mountain entrance was now a bustling, walled settlement. Grounders, Delinquents and Arkers worked together and learned from each other. It turned out that nothing brought Sky People together like the near certain possibility of dying in the cold harsh winter. The bonds between Mount Vie and Camp Jaha had only gotten stronger. More of the Arkers had ended up in Mount Vie than Clarke and Bellamy ever expected, especially after they used the mountain’s resources to find the missing Ark stations.

The mountain strong hold was filled to capacity with the Arkers, many of whom felt more comfortable there with the narrow halls and climate control. It was almost like being in space. Most of the delinquents and nearly all of the grounders disliked living under ground though, so when Raven and Wick invented their biocement extruders, capable of building a hut a day, all of their people were housed in weather tight huts that looked almost like wasp nests. 

Aside from the little village of huts, there was also a meeting center that they called The Embassy, where the command tent had once been, and a barracks right around the path, along with a commissary, a dining hall and a medical center. Bellamy and Clarke were heading there now.

Octavia left the Embassy and ran to catch up with them. They kept walking. Now that all the huts had been built, Raven had turned the biocement extruders to making paths between all the buildings. Clarke was glad not to have to slog through the mud anymore. It had been a very wet and messy spring, but it was suddenly beautiful. The skies were clear and bright blue, the air warm. The forest had burst into life and was filled with color and scent and beauty. 

“You don’t have to go to River Clan, Clarke,” Octavia said, grabbing her arm to stop her. 

“You’re the one that said there was an illness in the village, Octavia.” Clarke stopped. “They came to you as ambassador to ask for our help.” She started off again towards the med center. “That’s what we’re doing.” 

“Yes, but you don’t have to go. Jackson can send one of his apprentices. We know what the illness is. It’s already been through our camp. We know how to treat it.”

“We don’t know. We assume. It might need a different treatment, so I need to be there. And I want to to give medical checks to all the villagers, make sure they are healthy.” They reached the medical center. It was a climate controlled, biocement bunker, half built into the ground. One of Jackson’s apprentices came out of the door with an armful of medical supplies. Jackson had called ahead. The man knew how to expedite things. 

Clarke and Bellamy filled their packs with the supplies.

“How come you’re not trying to convince me to stay, O?” Bellamy said, sounding almost offended by her lack of concern. 

Octavia rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows you don’t let Clarke go wandering in the woods by herself anymore.”

“That’s not true!” Bellamy really sounded offended, now.

Clarke tucked the penicillin into Bellamy’s pack and leaned into him. “It’s kind of true,” she grinned.

He took a breath to argue and drew his eyebrows together and let it out. At a loss.

Clarke dropped her pack at her feet and reached up to hug him. “It’s okay. She didn’t notice that that I don’t let you go wandering off in the woods alone, either. I really missed you when we were apart.” The last was whispered into his ear, setting off a tingle down his spine.

“Oh, I noticed,” Octavia said. “We all did. And we’re all waiting for this honeymoon period to be over so you guys can think rationally again.”

Bellamy held onto Clarke with his one arm, but rolled his eyes right back at his sister, returning her Blake glare. “Even if Clarke weren’t going for medical reasons, I would still want to be there. We need to be there. River Clan is in a tactically important area. They control river traffic between us and Polis. It won’t be too long before we have boats and will want to trade with other tribes. We want River Clan with us. We need allies. We want to treat with them.”

Octavia eyed her brother, standing smiling next to Clarke. “And I suppose that’s why you have to go with her? To treat. With the River Clan. That’s why you don’t want any guards to go with you?” 

His smiled broadened. “What can I say, O. We like to treat.” His smile became a smirk. So did Clarke’s.

“Why can’t you just say you want to get away together? Why do you have to make up political treaties and virulent diseases.”

“Who’s making anything up, O?” Bellamy said. “They are sick and need a doctor. And we need to treat with them as Nomon and Nontu.”

“And that’s why you can’t wait until Raven and Wick fine tune their rover car so they can drive you over there in one tenth of the time it will take you to hike.”

“I am not getting in that thing. It’s a menace.” Clarke said. 

“They’ve figured out how to drive it,” Octavia said with a grimace, because not really.

“We don’t want to take the rover car and be there in one tenth of the time,” Bellamy said, serenely.

“Because we’ll probably die in a fiery crash,” Clarke said.

Bellamy put an arm around Clarke and hugged her to his side. Since he had her, he was so much calmer. “Because we want to get away together and spend time alone, and we need to go visit the River Clan and treat with them and give them medicine, so we’re going. Alone.”

She smiled up at him and it was radiant.

It was so radiant that Octavia could not argue anymore. “Fine!” she huffed. “But if you get killed or captured see if I come after you.”

“You know you will, O,” Bellamy said. 

She snorted. “I will, but I will never let you hear the end of it.”

“If we’re dead?” Clarke teased.

“If you die I’ll kill you.”

“You know that River Clan’s territory is adjacent to ours, right?” Bellamy reminded her. “We have permission to travel on their land. If anyone attacks us on the way to their village it will be an act of war against both the Sky People and the River Clan. This journey is about as safe as it can get. Don’t worry.”

“I won’t stop worrying.” Octavia said. “Keep in radio contact or I’ll come after you. Dumbasses. Enjoy your honey moon.” She hugged each of them quickly and then stormed off.


	2. Yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's different when it's just Clark and Bellamy in the woods, alone, and they aren't surrounded by responsibilities.
> 
> Perhaps there's a little time to enjoy the beauty of spring on earth. Perhaps there's a moment for them to not have the weight of the world on their shoulders.
> 
> Things come up.
> 
> Unexpected things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I can't write smut. I just can't do it. I can write romance, and love scenes and sex scenes even, but smut is something different. I tried. 
> 
> This whole scene was me trying to find a way to write smut. All sorts of things happened, and most of them weren't planned. I'm surprisingly okay with where it went. 
> 
> At least they didn't get kidnapped or stabbed. It was a distinct possibility.

Even though they were burdened by heavy packs, and armed with guns and blades, when Clarke and Bellamy left the walls and sounds and duties of Camp Vie behind, Clarke wanted to laugh and skip about like a child. They were alive. Miraculously. Dying Ark, vicious grounders, feral delinquents, evil mountain men, and finally, a brutal winter. And they had made it through. And it was spring. 

The earth had shed it’s harsh winter clothes and was now bursting with life and color. She had never seen so many shades of green in her life as she did now, walking under the trees, in the dappled sunshine. She started singing a song she remembered from her childhood about flowers and fields and Bellamy just grinned and looked at her out of the corner of his eye as they hiked.

“You’re in a good mood, Princess,” he said. “You’d think we weren’t heading for a town riddled with pestilence at all.”

“When we get there, I’ll roll up my sleeves and get to work and save them if I can and mourn if I can’t. And we’ll get a treaty with them, too. We have something to offer. They’d be fools not to want us as allies… but…”

“But what?”

“But we’re not there yet. Look around you, Bellamy. This is the earth that we dreamed of. Soft and abundant and full of life, our home. The earth can be a total bitch, but this? This is amazing.” 

“Winter was definitely a bitch.” Even with the added resources and shelter of the mountains, they had lost people this winter, not as many as they’d feared, but winter was harsh. “But you’re right, this is pretty amazing.” His face broke into one of its rare, full smiles. She gazed at him as she made her way thought the trees. 

“Do you realize that this is only the second time that we’ve actually been alone?”

He raised one eyebrow and leered at her. “I’m pretty sure we’ve managed to be alone together before.”

“We’ve been alone in a room, but there’s always someone on the other side of the door, down the hall. There’s always someone around to call on the radio or knock on the door or come around the corner. We’re always on duty. There’s always someone who needs us.”

“We both have radios, now.”

“But we’re too far away for them to ask for our help. They have to take care of whatever it would be without us.” 

“Don’t remind me.”

“It’s okay. They can handle it. Raven, Octavia, Jasper, Miller. We’re all good. It’s peace time.”

“For now,” he said, ominously.

“Oh my god. Yes. For now. And right now, let’s enjoy it.” She came closer to him and grabbed his arm, leaning into him. “The only other time we’ve gone off together alone was that first time, when we went in search of the depot. Remember?”

He glanced down at her and licked his lips. “I remember. You wanted me to come with you because you didn’t want to be around someone you liked.” He huffed a laugh. “You probably didn’t realize how much that hit me in the gut.”

She chewed on her lip and pulled him down to kiss his cheek. “I liked you, Bellamy, even though you were a complete asshole.”

He laughed a whole laugh this time, startling a bird out of a nearby tree. She hugged his arm as they walked. It was a long walk, they didn’t have to go fast. “You know it’s true.”

“All right, it’s true. I admit it. I was an asshole. For once, I didn’t fucking care what anyone thought of me. I didn’t have to play nice. I didn’t have to watch out for the guard or be afraid that someone would find out about Octavia. I didn’t live with the threat of floating over my head. Do you know that when they skyboxed Octavia, they told me if I stepped one foot out of line, I would be following my mother. They told me, straight up, they were going to float me, and they would enjoy it.”

Clarke grimaced. “That sounds awful. But then you agreed to kill Jaha for Shumway. That’s more than just a toe out of line.”

“Can you imagine Clarke? Living like that, under a magnifying glass? After trying to stay out of notice your whole life, after always doing everything you were ever supposed to do so no one would ever notice that you were the biggest criminal on the Ark? And then all of a sudden, they all knew it, and they felt I had betrayed them, and they wanted me gone, too. The guard hated me. I had nothing else to lose. Of course I was going down to earth with Octavia. I would rather have died with her than lived like that anymore, and since there was a chance that we could live? Fuck the guard. I was going to take it.”

“Fuck them,” Clarke said, looking up at him.

“Exactly. Fuck them. And fuck the Ark. Fuck their rules. Fuck Jaha who I thought I’d killed. And fuck Wells who was, fuck, he was such a good kid.”

Bellamy stopped and stared down at Clarke, his face blank. She looked back up at him, in shock. “I wish, sometimes, that I could go back in time, that I could be me, instead of that asshole holding onto that fucking gun instead of his dick, and do it right. Wells was right, the whole time, and all I could see was The Chancellor, and I thought he was dead because of me, and here was his kid telling me to be a man and do the right thing. Fuck.”

Bellamy fell to his knees in the forest. Clarke followed, wrapping her arms around him. “If I could go back, I would save him. He died because I was a dick. No other reason. I made it okay for all the other kids to treat him like it was his fault, to blame him for what his father did.”

“It wasn’t you, Bellamy, it was Charlotte. She was troubled. She had been ever since her parents were floated. It wasn’t you.”

“But it was, Clarke. He told me I could stop it, and I knew he was right. I could have stopped it. I knew I could. I didn’t want to. I let all the kids take it out on him because it was easier for him to be to blame than it was for me to face my own guilt.”

The wracking sob that tore through him was like an elemental force, he held onto Clarke as if she was the only thing that could keep him from flying apart. She held him, despite the tears tracking down her own cheeks, she let him let it out.

When it finally subsided and he knelt, exhausted in her arms, his head resting on her shoulder, she asked, “have you ever spoken to anyone about this?”

“I never said a word,” he mumbled into her neck. 

“How could you?” she asked, stroking his hair. “You always had to be so strong for everyone.” She shook her head at the beautiful spring day. The birds who had long since started their singing again. “I was right about us needing to get away from everyone for this trip,” she said, “But I was so wrong to leave you at the gate of Camp Jaha.”

She felt his lips stretch into a smile on the skin of her neck. “You didn’t get very far,” he said.

“That’s only because you practically stumbled over me. I meant to leave you to deal with all this on your own. I was so caught up in what I had done and how I needed to run away from it, that I couldn’t see that you were dealing with the same thing.”

He shook his head and sat back to look at her. “No.”

“Yes. What would you have done if I had asked you to come with me?”

He sighed and tilted his head at her. “I would have come with you.”

“And then we would have left them behind, to be delinquents again with the council. And some of them would have split to go back to the drop ship. And Jasper would have come up here to bury Maya alone. And Monty would be left with his guilt in engineering. Octavia and Lincoln would have gone off to some new clan. And Kane would have taken the mountain and turned it into a missile silo. It would have been a mess.”

“You should have given us a chance to work it out. Together.”

“I should have.” She leaned into him, practically sitting on his lap, her pack knocking her off balance. “I’m really glad you found me in Mount Weather.”

“Me too. If we hadn’t found you, you might have died there, surrounded by bodies. I might have lost you for good. Do you think I don’t think about that?”

“Oh Bellamy,” she said, and stroked her hand up and down her chest. “I really did think you were an asshole.”

“Excuse me?”

“On that first trip. You were such an asshole, such a sexy asshole,” she laughed lightly. “Sometimes I think that’s why I went with Finn in the first place, to get some distance from you. He was cute and harmless and he reminded me of my dad. You were dangerous. With your gun and your followers and all your girlfriends and your lack of shirt.” Her hand found its way up his shirt. “Oh my god, Bellamy, why didn’t you ever wear your shirt back then?”

He grinned. “It was hot.”

She rolled her eyes. “You were hot and you wanted everyone to know it. Shirtless Bellamy Blake, surrounded by adoring teenagers.”

“It worked didn’t it?”

“Not on me. I ran to Finn.” She sighed. “I wish I’d gone to you.”

“He didn’t turn out to be as harmless as we thought.”

Clarke shook her head sadly. “And you didn’t turn out to be as much of an asshole.”

“Hey!” He said, sounding offended. “Take that back. I’m still an asshole.”

She laughed and dug her finger into his ribs, right where she knew he was ticklish. He squirmed so much he knocked her off his lap and onto her back where she flailed for a while, with the weight of the back pack keeping her pinned.

Bellamy jumped up and pulled her to her feet. “Are you okay.”

“Yeah I’m fine. Shit. The antibiotics.” She took the pack off and went back down on her knees to rifle through it. 

“Is it all right?”

“Yeah. Yeah. The med center packed them really well.” She held up a hard cased box. Raven made them out of a cellulose polymer, a byproduct of her biocement extruder. “Technology is really great.” She held up another pouch. “However, our lunch looks like it’s pretty much smushed. Bread and sheep’s cheese did not warrant a fancy Raven box, apparently.”

Bellamy took the pouch from her. “I guess it’s time to have lunch, then.”

“It’s pretty early. Shouldn’t we keep walking?”

“We’re definitely taking a break. We don’t have to race to get to River Clan.” He grabbed her heavy pack and gestured for her to follow. “You were right. We needed to get out of the camp. Get away from everybody, from all our responsibilities, just for a little while.” He walked through the trees a bit.

“Bellamy, I can carry my own pack,” Clarke said. 

“Right through here,” he ignored her until he broke through the tree cover into a meadow filled with purple flowers waving in the gentle breeze.

“Oh!” Clarke exclaimed. “How did you know this was here?”

“I didn’t,” he smiled. “I knew there was a clearing, but the flowers are a bonus.” He settled Clarke’s bag down and then took his own off, grabbing a blanket from the roll, and spreading it out on the ground. He sat down and patted the blanket next to him. He grinned up at her and she couldn’t help the answering grin. She folded her legs and plopped right next to him, stretching her neck and shoulders a bit before taking the bread and cheese he offered her. 

As she took a bite, he leaned forward.

“So, since we’ve already talked about all your boyfriends today, do you want to talk about Lexa?”

Clarke choked on her lunch. “Bellamy!” He handed her a canteen. After coughing for a bit, she could take a breath. “Lexa was never my girlfriend,” she said. “She kissed me once. I told her I wasn’t ready to be in a relationship with anyone. Finn had just died and I was grieving and you were in the mountain and I was really confused about my feelings for you.”

“You told her about your feelings for me?”

Clarke shook her head. “No. Never. Although she kind of guessed.”

“I always knew she hated me.”

He was looking at her so seriously. She leaned over and put a hand to his cheek. “What I said isn’t true. I wasn’t confused about my feelings for you. I was very clear. As soon as you went into the mountain, I knew. As soon as you weren’t with me, as soon as you were at risk, I knew I loved you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, worrying about you. Here was this alliance of terrifying warriors and a war on the horizon and murderous grounders and giant gorillas and it was all… you.”

“But you kissed her.”

She grinned. “What can I say? She’s pretty cute. Had to get a little action where I could…”

“You liked her.” 

“Fine, yes. I did like her. She was beautiful and strong and so confident. She never doubted herself. Not once.”

“If things were different, would you have been her girlfriend?”

“Do you mean if I hadn’t just killed Finn and our people weren’t in the mountain and there wasn’t a war on the horizon and I wasn’t surrounded by grounder warriors and if I hadn’t just sent the man I loved and had never even kissed into almost certain death? Sure. Yeah. If I’d met Lexa on the Ark, I would have dated her.”

“You wouldn’t have dated me.”

Clarkes eyebrows shot up into her forehead. She took his bread and cheese out of his hand and tossed both of their lunches back in the sack. She climbed onto him where he sat and pushed him back on the ground until she was straddling his hips and looming over him.

“Is that what this little trip down All-Clarke’s-Exes Lane is about? Are you doubting my love for you?”

“Well you did hate me when you first met me. It’s not like this was love at first sight.”

She quirked one eyebrow at him. “I think, Mr Blake, that if we had met on the Ark, you’re the one who wouldn’t have dated me. I would have taken one look at you in your cadet’s uniform and developed a mad school girl crush on you. You would have been so strong and brave, and you wouldn’t have been the asshole that you were when we came to earth, finally free to do whatever the hell you wanted. You wouldn’t have made me your enemy, the way you did at the drop ship, because you would be wary of what my mom could do. You would have called me a princess in your head and sneered at me behind your polite face, but never, ever, not once, called me princess aloud. You would have thought I was a silly little rich girl. Maybe you would have been nice to me, but only because you had to, because of who I was.”

He sat up with her in his lap and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her, softly, his hand cradling her neck. “It’s not true. I would have loved you,” he said against her lips.

She shook her head. He began kissing her face, her neck. “You would never have loved me because I was Clarke Griffin, councillor’s daughter, and you were Bellamy Blake, from Factory, with an illegal sibling under the floor.”

He pulled back. “I love you now.”

“And I love you. There’s no point to these what ifs. We can’t turn back time. We can only go forward.” She held his face between her hands and looked into his eyes, trying to make him believe. “And I want to go forward with you.”

His chest filled with breath and he blinked at her, his eyes filled with emotion, his arms wrapped around her. He nodded, without words. He combed his fingers through her soft hair, brushing it back from her face, holding onto it. And then he was kissing her, nibbling her lips with his, caressing them. She opened to him, right away, licking his lower lip, inviting him in, and when his tongue delved into her mouth, sliding against hers, shooting tingles all the way to her root, she hummed in pleasure.

He rolled her over, laying her down on the blanket and holding his weight off of her with his elbows, his hands still playing in her hair. They lay there, in the meadow of wild flowers, on an earth made new by spring and promise and sunshine, staring into each other eyes.

A small smile curved his lips. She answered him with her own.

“This is pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Clarke said, her voice husky. “We came from up there,” she nodded at the sky, “from a dying Ark, holding the supposed last of humanity orbiting a poisonous planet.” She lifted her hands to brush through his dark curls. “And now we’re here, on this beautiful planet, holding each other.” She smiled. “It feels like hope.”

“I couldn’t even have dreamed this, Clarke,” he choked out, “You.” He caressed her face and she could feel everyone of his calluses. The roughness of his fingers a part of who he was, created by everything he would do for them. She marveled at how he could be so tough and so tender at the same time. She couldn’t look away from the depth of his eyes. “Marry me.”

Clarke startled. “Bellamy!” she gasped.

Bellamy let go of her and sat up. “Shit. Clarke. I’m sorry. No. Forget I said that. It’s crazy. You’re too young. You just turned eighteen. Holy fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Stop. Bellamy. Stop.” She sat up and put her hand on his thigh, her heart beating so fast she was afraid it would break right through her chest.

He turned away from her and hung his head. “Don’t listen to me. Just pretend I didn’t say that.”

“But you did say it.” She could barely breathe. “Did you mean it?”

He snorted as if she was crazy to even question it. “Of course I meant it. I think about it all the time. I love you. You are my best friend. My partner. My family. I couldn’t imagine life without you. You make my blood boil. And every time I see you I want to rip your clothes off and lick you all over. You mean more to me than anyone else in this crazy green world.” He raked his fingers through his hair, and stared up at the puffy white clouds in the perfect blue sky, refusing to look at her. “I am an idiot.”

“Yes.”

He turned around to face her. “What?”

She smiled and couldn’t stop her eyelids from fluttering at him. “Yes.” The word was a breath. “Bellamy, I’ll marry you.”

“No.” His eyebrows drew together and said, almost angrily.

She shook her head like she couldn’t believe what she just heard. She sat up on her knees. “Did— did you just reject my acceptance of your proposal of marriage?”

“You can’t marry me. It makes no sense. Your mother would kill you. Your mother would kill me. Twice. You are just a teenager and you have your whole life ahead of you. What if you meet someone when you’re older? What if you find out you want something else? There’s no way I’m letting you marry some goon.”

“Oh my god, Bellamy, you’re the goon.”

“Yeah, and I’m not letting you marry me.”

“The fuck you aren’t. It’s my life, I’ll marry you if I want.”

“I swear, Princess, you are the most stubborn—“

She threw herself at him, over balancing him, “Shut up, jackass,” she said, and covered his argumentative mouth with her own. The fight went out of him and kissed her back, his hands roaming over her back and shoulders, up her neck and into her hair. He held her to him, kissing her as if her lips were a story he needed to tell, her skin was a song under his fingers. 

The kiss deepened. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, needy and ground against him as he lay beneath her. He groaned and his hands wandered under her shirt, inflaming her skin wherever they passed. She licked his neck and bit at his pulse. She loved to hear him pant.

“Marry me, Bellamy,” she whispered hoarsely into his ear.

He laughed. “No fair, princess. You’re using your wiles.”

“Damn right.” She kissed the shell of his ear. “Be my husband.” Her lips brushed his ear as she said the words. He shuddered and drew in a shaky breath. “Let me be your wife.”

He drew her back so he could look at her. She could see the question in his eyes, the disbelief, the love. He shook his head, just slightly as if it were impossible.

She nodded to him, just this side of tears. Yes. It was possible.

“All we have is today, Bellamy. Yesterday can’t be changed. Tomorrow is no guarantee. Either one of us, or both, could die tomorrow. But you, I have. We have us. Right now. I want to marry you.”

“You’re supposed to be the logical one, Clarke. I’m supposed to be the rash one.”

“I am being logical. It just makes sense. You and me. We make sense.”

“We do?” he asked and rolled her over, pressing her into the ground so he could mark kisses down her throat to the opening of her shirt. 

She laughed lightly, and ran her fingers through his hair. “We do. Really, it’s best for everyone.”

“Everyone?” he asked, just lifting his lips off of the swell of her breast, before licking a stripe down her cleavage. His hand wandered to the button of her jeans.

“Oh yes." Clarke smiled. "All of our people want to see us stable and settled and working as a team. A marriage will definitely cement that. You know me, I will do anything for my—Oh!” Words failed her as his fingers stroked her softly, catching her senses on fire. “Bellamy,” she moaned. Her hands clutched at his broad shoulders. “Bellamy?”

“Yes, Princess?” He purred the words, watching her face as the sensations over took her.

“Say it,” she gasped. “Say it, please…”

“Yes, Clarke, I will be your husband. Will you be my wife?”

“Yes, oh, yes,” she panted as the world fell apart around her and reformed again, with Bellamy at the center.


	3. Making Mythologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Bellamy arrive at the River Village. Patients are healed. Alliances are made. Clarke is disturbed by the way the villagers seem to worship her. Bellamy sees it from a different perspective.

Clarke found River Clan to be a profoundly disturbing experience. 

The illness in the village was an easy problem to solve. The original assessment was correct, and the antibiotics worked swiftly and well. Clarke examined all the members of the small village and treated all the injuries and illnesses she could, then she and Bellamy sat with their chief. Patients began to recover even before Clarke and Bellamy had finished with their negotiations.

There were hardly even any negotiations. The river clan had accepted the medical care and immediately offered the Skaikru passage through their river whenever they wanted it, along with a share of the seasonal catch from their fishing boats, and a detail of fishermen and sailors and boatbuilders to go back to Mount Vie and teach the sky people how to handle the river.

It really seemed that the River Clan didn’t want anything in return from them, except for their friendship, but Clarke insisted on giving them the promise of a wind turbine and looms with which they could make new sails for their ships, instead of struggling to repair hundred year old canvas.

It really should have felt like a win, like something going right for once instead of turning into death and destruction. But the negotiations ended with smiles and hearty arm clasps, and bottles of wine and baskets of fruit stuffed into their arms.

A smiling elderly woman led Clarke and Bellamy back through the village. The villagers lined the path.

“Wanheda!” they called, followed by something in trigedasleng that Clarke couldn’t follow. “Wanheda!” They cried.

Clarke raised her head high and nodded to the crowd, but she reached out and held onto his arm, for comfort. She hated that name. Commander of death. 

The old woman stopped them at a hut. It was made of earth and grass. There were purple and white flowers growing on the roof and a small, square window covered with some sort of thin skin. The doorway was low and deep, and the old woman held the wooden plank door open for them.

“Sleep,” she said, and a string of words she didn’t recognize. “Morning.” She smiled again and waved them through. 

But before they could step through the door, Clarke really wanting to be away from the eyes and the voices, calling her Wanheda, a young boy ran up to her. 

“ Sunraun Nomon!” He said. “Mochof, Nomon!” He handed her a bouquet of the purple and white flowers.

“Oh!” she said. She handed Bellamy the basket that had been given her on the way to the sod house. “Thank you. These are lovely.” She smiled at the boy, and then lifted her eyes to Bellamy, who was looking down on her with such love, it brought tears to her eyes. When she looked back to the boy, he was smiling too, and she had a hard time not letting him see her silly tears.

“Sunraun Nomon!” said another child, pushing through the crowd of river people gathered around, watching. “Mochof, Nomon,” this one was a girl, a bit older, with multiple braids falling down her back. She handed her a bouquet of more purple and white flowers. “Mochof, Nontu Shidgeida.” She handed Bellamy a sunflower, then giggled shyly and took the boy by the hand and pulled him back. 

And then, they were surrounded by children. It must have been all the children in the entire village. They must have cleared out a meadow of those purple and white flowers, “Mochof,” they said, and called her Sunraun Nomon. They touched her hand, the hem of her sweater. They smiled at her. And when the last of the children had handed her their bouquets, they disappeared into the crowd of river people.The sun was near the horizon, and the buttery light was turning to shadows.

Clarke was unwilling to step back into the shelter of the door, she looked out at the river people. They looked back at her.

“Mochof,” they said. “Mochof Sunraun Nomon. Mochof Nontu Shidgeida.” And as they spoke their thanks, Clarke did know the word for thanks, they melted off into the village, going off to their own homes, or tasks. Families. Maybe to care for their loved ones who had been dying, just a few hours before, but now would recover. 

When all of the villagers had gone away, and it was just the smiling old woman, nodding, saying “tomorrow,” Bellamy pulled her through the low doorway into the little earth hut.

“Come on, Clarke. Let’s get some sleep. We have more to do tomorrow.” He lit the oil lamp as she latched the solid wooden door.

She had an arm full of flowers and stood in a hut made of dirt. She couldn’t help the huge grin on her face.

“What?” Bellamy said, as he set the lamp down on a small wooden table in the center of the room. There was a fire place, but it had been such a warm spring day they needed no fire. He began taking the flowers from her, laying them on the table, also. There was no vase to hold them, so he just piled them. 

“They called me Nomon, mother, like Octavia said they did. I like that better than Wanheda.”

“Not just mother, Clarke. Sunraun Nomon.” 

“What is sunraun?”

“I’m not as good at languages as Octavia is. But I think it means, life. Or day. Like the sun going round. Sunraun.”

“So they call me Mother Life?” She laughed. “And the parents call me Commander of Death.” She laughed again. Louder. 

She fell down onto the low platform bed in the corner. The only furniture in the room aside from the table and two chairs. When she was done chuckling, she leaned back on her elbows and looked at Bellamy, with a smile. “And what were you called? Nontu Shidgeida? What’s that? I don’t know that word.”

“Night, I think.”

She raised her eyebrows to him. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s better than Wanheda, but Mother Day and Father Night? That’s a little…woo woo, isn’t it?”

Bellamy squinted at her and he chewed his lip. He turned away to the basket on the table by the flowers. 

“Hey, looks like apple wine.” He unwrapped a leaf wrapped bundle and took a sniff. “Sheeps milk cheese. Some strawberries. Bread and sausage. I'm not even hungry, but this is a feast.”

Clarke sat up. “Wait. You don’t think it’s silly? The way they treat me? Give me these ridiculous names?”

He pulled the cork out of the wine and drank right from the bottle. “Nice.” He held the bottle out for her to take. She took it.

“Bellamy, be serious.”

“Drink your wine, Princess,” he said and sat down next to her, brushing her hair back from her neck.

She couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips at the way he touched her, and took a sip from the bottle. “It’s sweet,” she said. He pressed his lips to the side of her neck that he had bared. Her eyes fluttered closed. “You’re sweet, too.”

He laughed huskily against her skin. “I never thought I’d ever hear you say that to me.”

“You are. You are sweet, especially when you’re trying to distract me. Don’t tell me you like being called Father Night,” she teased. “Does it make you feel like one of your mythological gods?”

He sighed into the hair behind her ear. She shuddered.

“I don’t know if we will have a say in what people call us, Clarke.” 

“I certainly can’t get them to stop calling me Wanheda.” She made a face, then lay back on the pallet. He took the bottle of wine from her and set it on the floor, then slid up to lay next to her.

“This is a new world, Clarke. The world ended, and then it started again. Even the grounders have only been on the surface for fifty years or so. All the old stories are dead. What we need now are new ones.” He propped himself up with his elbow and ran his hand down her side, down to her hips. “I think Wanheda will be legend.”

“I don’t want to be known for the terrible things I have done.”

“Nomon Sunraun, Wanheda. Mother of Life, Commander of Death,” he said, seriously.

The hair on her arms stood up. She shivered, and not at his touch. She clutched at his biceps, holding on. 

“I think you are the stories that the people of earth will make. You are the new mythology. The new religion. Divine.”

Clarke snorted. “You’re messing with me. I’m not divine.”

“Wanheda. Nomon Sunraun. You are the sun,” he placed his hand on her chest, above her heart, his fingers sliding underneath her shirt. He gestured at himself, “And her lover, the moon. Nontu Shidgeida.”

She shook her head at him and laughed, sitting up to grab the wine and take a big swallow. He sat up and took the wine from her, drinking himself, with his eyes twinkling. Her breath hitched in her throat. She took the bottle from him and put it back on the floor, and then pushed him back to the blankets, kissing him.

He tasted like the apple wine, and salt, and Bellamy. She tangled her hands in his curls, and pressed her body the full length of his. His hands roamed up her back, caressing her, deepening the kiss. She moaned and he dragged her shirt up over her head. She reached behind herself and unhooked her bra. He smiled lazily and took her breasts in his hands.

“Should we be doing this? This is an official trip. We’re trying to make treaties.”

“And thus the love of Wanheda and her lover was consecrated in the waters of the River Clan, among the flowers and the apple wine,” he said as he rolled her nipples between his fingers, and she gasped. 

She pulled his shirt off over his head. “Stop making mythologies, Bellamy,” but her voice was a mere whisper. They took off their pants and laid back down, facing each other, mouths wandering, hands wandering, caressing, tasting, worshipping. They made love and even Clarke had to admit, it felt like more than just sex. Than just bodies. It felt like something divine.

The oil lamp was still flickering, lighting them up as they lay tangled in the furs, turning Bellamy’s skin to glistening gold. She ran her hand down his chest and smiled sleepily.

“You are a goddess,” he said. “I understand why they worship you.”

“Bellamy, stop, you’re making all that up. You know I only did what I had to.”

“Mmhm,” he hummed. “I know what happened. I even know why and how it happened, but it doesn’t change the stories.”

She growled under her breath and slapped his chest lightly. 

“You fell from the heavens,” he said, “with eyes the color of sky and hair like spun sunshine.”

“Bellamy Blake, you are a poet and a romantic. I’m going to ruin your reputation as a hard ass.” She ran her fingernails up to his neck, trying to ignore her own blush at his words. He reached up and untangled her fingers from his hair. He twined his fingers with hers.

“You hold the power of life and death in your hands.” She tried to pull away from him, but he held on. “You do,” he said, looking into her eyes. “You walked into this village and cured all the people who were near death.”

“That was the medicine and you know it.”

“I do, but it doesn’t change the fact that you can bring people back from death. You can even bring the reapers back. That is even more magical.”

“That was my mother. Not me.”

“It was your plan. Your decision. Your will. Your hands. Bringing life.” He looked down at her hands, ran a finger tip along the lines in her palm. “And you destroy armies with one gesture.”

“Gesture?”

“Fine,” he folded her hand closed, wrapped his own around it. “Pull of a lever.”

She grimaced.

“You conquered the mountain, Clarke. You saved your people. You saved all these people from being harvested. You saved the children of this village, those children giving you flowers, from a life under the thumb of people who treated them like cattle.” 

“Bellamy. I did terrible things. We both did. You know I’m no goddess.”

“Yes, you are. You are a terrible and awesome goddess. The most terrifying and adored. All who meet you love you, and fall at your feet, devoted.” He kissed her neck and her argument failed. 

“Even Murphy?” she named the most obnoxious prick she could think of.

He pulled back from kissing her and raised his eyebrows. “Actually yes. Murphy loved you. You should have seen him when you got hurt.”

She shook her head. Uncomfortable. Murphy loved her? She almost felt bad for telling him he wasn’t forgiven. God. She had done so much worse than Murphy had. Harmed so many more people. 

“They all love you.”

“Some of the grounders wanted to kill me. And Cage. Oh he hated me.”

"Love. Hate. Fear. It all comes from the same place." He shook his head and smiled at her, wrapping his arms around her. “You just won’t believe that you are their goddess. You are my goddess.” He stopped her before she could argue more, his lips slow and gentle, soft. Worshipful.

“All of that goes for you, too, Bellamy. All of it,” she whispered against his lips, overwhelmed with his presence, his love. She wrapped her arms around him.

“I saved no one. It was all I could do to keep the ones under my watch alive, and I only managed with half.”

“Maybe I can cure a body, but you, Bellamy, you saved our souls. You gave us purpose. You saved us all. Our lives are yours.”

He looked at her in the dying light of the oil lamp, her eyes dark as midnight pools. “I only want yours,”

“You have it,” she breathed. 

He pulled her to him, pressing her against his side. He reached out and found a fur, dragging it over them to keep the spring chill away. In each other’s arms, they slept through the night, until the sun broke over the horizon and they rose to meet the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nanowrimo is coming and I fear I won't have as much time to write fanfic. I had this chapter half written, so I wanted to finish it and post it, closing out Pantheon rather than leave anyone hanging.

**Author's Note:**

> I intend for this to be fluff... but I'm seeing ominous hints. I hope it doesn't go haring off into angst territory. 
> 
> I'm not really sure where it's headed. I hope Clarke and Bellamy don't decide to go and be heroes again.


End file.
